Cost Of Being Alive; The Tightwad

By Alexandra Starr

Published: October 15, 2000

Representative Mark Sanford of South Carolina adamantly opposes a pay increase for members of Congress. The 40-year-old Republican does not buy the argument that representatives need pay hikes because they are forced to maintain households in both Washington and their districts. ''I'm proof positive you don't have to pay two rents,'' Sanford says. When Congress is in session, Sanford sleeps in his office.

Presumably, Sanford's $141,000 salary could cover the rent for a room or apartment in Washington and the $2,500 monthly mortgage on his home in Charleston, but he maintains that he lives in his office for reasons other than pure frugality. ''The real benefit of living in my office,'' he says, ''is that it saves on the most precious commodity in Washington -- time.''

This philosophy aside, there is no denying that Sanford is cheap. In addition to the $103 he invested on a futon that he rolls out at the end of every day and stashes behind the sofa each morning, Sanford tries to limit his spending in the capital to the following: about $10 every two weeks on toiletries that he uses when he showers in the House gym, $1.90 every day on breakfast -- orange juice and yogurt -- in the House cafeteria and $7.50 on the members' all-you-can-eat salad buffet. Sanford spends $1 per shirt for laundering back in Charleston, but he gets his money's worth. ''If I go up to Washington on a Monday and stay through Thursday,'' he says, ''one clean shirt will last me through the week.''

When the House votes in the evening, Sanford eats a free dinner with his Republican brethren in the office of the majority whip, Representative Tom DeLay of Texas. Sanford, who has term-limited himself to six years in Congress, says that these are the only free meals he takes and that he can't be found dining with lobbyists at the Capital Grille.

''It's not that I consider it impure,'' he says. ''But I don't take PAC money, and that's how those relationships are formed.''

Sanford traces his thriftiness to his upbringing. His parents came of age during the Depression, and when Sanford was in high school, his father contracted Lou Gehrig's disease. His family came close to losing their farm, and Sanford says the experience taught him the importance of staying out of debt. That outlook informs his political philosophy: he consistently votes against increasing government spending and also returns a portion of the stipend he receives each year to run his Congressional office. To do that, he pays his staff some of the lowest salaries on Capitol Hill.

Sanford does, however, allow himself one indulgence. Once each year he spends $1,500 to rent a 35-ton excavator for a week and uses it to clear dirt on his family farm. ''I love doing that, because the political process can be so intangible,'' he says. ''When you're scooping dirt, you know you've done something. It fills a need for tangible results.''